Tuercas. Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros.
Stephan Dybus, Susan Carr, Daniel Ferstl, Sergio Prego, Mai Blanco, Juliana Cerqueira, Francesc Ruiz, Eulàlia Rovira, Violeta Mayoral, Jessica Stockholder, Lydia Gifford, Yirui Jia, Nora Aurrekoetxea, Luz Broto, Madeline Jimenez Santil, Lara Fluxà
20 October, 2023 - 12 January, 2024

“Tuercas. Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros.”, 2023. Installation view at L21 HOME. 

“Tuercas. Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros.”, 2023. Installation view at L21 HOME. 

“Tuercas. Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros.”, 2023. Installation view at L21 HOME. 

“Tuercas. Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros.”, 2023. Installation view at L21 HOME. 

“Tuercas. Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros.”, 2023. Installation view at L21 HOME. 

“Tuercas. Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros.”, 2023. Installation view at L21 HOME. 

EULALIA ROVIRA
Manipular una branca (3) , 2023
Graphite on paper

65 x 50 cm

FRANCESC RUIZ
Tired (1), 2023
120 x 84 cm

LARA FLUXÀ
Moiga, 2022 – 2023
Glass, latex and liquid soap

Variable measures

LUZ BROTO
ST 02, 2022

 

 

MADELINE JIMENEZ SANTIL
Un segundo antes del principio, lo triangular era más bien vertical, 2023
Stainless steel, rubber and polyurethane hoses

200 x 30 x 9 cm

MADELINE JIMENEZ SANTIL
Antenas articulables que danzan con el vértigo, 2023
Stainless steel, rubber and polyurethane hoses

225 x 135 x 120 cm

NORA AURREKOETXEA
Kandelabrua, 2021
Bronce

35 x 24 x 28 cm

NORA AURREKOETXEA
TANTA 3, 2023
Reinforcing bar and spitted bronze

183.5 x 1.5 x 1.5 cm

YIRUI JIA
Shadow Player, 2023
Acrylic and glitter on canvas

249 x 170 cm

LYDIA GIFFORD
Lasting/sinew, 2022
Dyed cotton gauze, oil paint, clay, paint, ink, pigment, dirt, glue, steel, magnets. 

130 x 110 x 12 cm

SUSAN CARR
Untitled, 2023
Oil on panel

30.5 x 30.5 cm

STEPHAN DYBUS
Damn, 2023
Acrylic and pencil on paper

20 x 15 cm

STEPHAN DYBUS
Tanne, 2023
Acrylic and pencil on paper

20 x 15 cm (sin enmarcar)

DANIEL FERSTL
Mom knows best, 2021
Acrylic paint, foam, yarn, cotton, canvas, wood.

160 x 125 cm

DANIEL FERSTL
Coup Pinocchio, 2022
Satin, plush, yarn, wool, tie-dye, canvas, wood.

160 x 124 cm

DANIEL FERSTL
Composition #1, 2021
Satin, foam, yarn, cotton, acrylic paint, wood.

60 x 50 cm

SERGIO PREGO
1 escultura rosa, 2023

28 x 42 x 42 cm

NORA AURREKOETXEA
Gorantz erori / Falling upwards, 2019
Cork, chains, jesmonite and dried flower

285 x 70 x 30 cm

JESSICA STOCKHOLDER
#405, 2003
Green and red plastic tubes, wooden bowl, acrylic and oil paint, spray adhesive used as primer on the plastic and 4 hex head screws

66 x 86.4 x 33 cm

JESSICA STOCKHOLDER
#391, 2003
Sheet rock box, 5 red plastic containers, paper mache, red plastic box, red rope, fabrics, circle of pink carpet, plywood and red plastic vessels, red bath mat, coffee table and acrylic paint

180 x 114 x 203 cm

When Dr. Victor Frankenstein finally succeeded in bringing his creature to life after a long research, he was overcome by a mixture of amazement and horror: how to deal with the inert matter that comes to life, with that which lies between the natural and the artificial, between the organic and the machine? Unable to resolve this question, his fate would be tied to that of the being he had created, even if it meant a tragic outcome for both of them.

 

 

During the planning and installation of this exhibition, L21 Home has also become a kind of laboratory, giving birth to narratives and fictions, aesthetic juxtapositions, conceptual shifts… after multiple experiments, the result has been the group show “Tuercas: Una historia de ciencia ficción recluida en giros” which brings together the work of national and international artists such as Lara Fluxà, Stephan Dybus, Susan Carr, Daniel Ferstl, Sergio Prego, Mai Blanco, Juliana Cerqueira Leite, Francesc Ruiz, Eulàlia Rovira, Violeta Mayoral, Jessica Stockholder, Lydia Gifford, Yirui Jia, Nora Aurrekoetxea, Luz Broto and Madeline Jiménez Santil. How can we approach this creature born from collective energy and work? Perhaps by looking at its multiple fragments?

 

Halfway between the organic and the machine, Lara Fluxà’s sculptures spread across the gallery floor. The liquid soap is trapped in delicate glass capsules, which seek each other out like communicating vessels. They form a circulatory mechanism that seems to breathe like a living body. Fluids connect with each other in complex systems, as in Sergio Prego’s sexual drawings or in Madeline Jiménez Santil’s sculpture, “Antenas articulables que danzan con el vértigo” (Articulable antennas that dance with vertigo) where cables intertwine with a metal structure to form an ascending pentagram of parallel lines and curves. By contrast, Luz Broto stretches a line between two parallel interiors by means of a long nylon cable, which runs out of a window and into another. This line finds a symbolic continuity in the series of drawings by Eulàlia Rovira, whose delicate branches bring us back to the relationship with nature in a kind of botanical taxidermy on paper. Fluids and glass, flesh and metal, cables and branches meet in the exhibition room in alternating cycles. These combinations invite us to navigate the organic and the inorganic without making too many distinctions between the two realities, thus weaving a network that, as French philosopher Bruno Latour imagined, also includes nonhuman actors. A collective machine capable of agency and aesthetic gestures.

 

Ranging from the most humane, the emotional expression in the wide-open eyes of Mai Blanco’s characters, to the body that goes beyond flesh to meet the machine and Promethean fiction. In Francesc Ruiz’s series, anthropomorphic figures pose against an intense yellow background. These are bodies made of circular, perfect, improbable forms… Our attempts at fiction are always locked in a twist: that of our own capacity for speculation, the human limit to imagine alternative realities. As a result, the living machine we have built has life and breathes, but it also stumbles over its own limitations and struggles to stand upright. In this sense, Stephan Dybus’ work depicts the struggles of life in a humorous way. His small characters collapse in the video “Natural Shading”, unable to keep their balance in the context of an art gallery. One by one, they crumble slowly as if they were made of plasticine. One of Violeta Mayoral’s photographs shows us the crack of a car windshield, as if we could recreate the crash, while the arm of a skeleton emerges without warning from the energetic brushstrokes of Yirui Yia’s painting “Shadow Player”. The big-eyed creatures in Susan Carr’s paintings never look back at us, but instead elaborate metaphors for loss, eternity and transcendence.

 

Daniel Ferstl works in different media such as painting, textiles and written word. His work “Mum Knows Best” contains a statement against a background of childish flowers. A dried flower rests delicately on the cork fragments that make up Nora Aurrekoetxea’s installation “Falling Upwards”, an attempt to subvert the laws of gravity? In the exhibition one can find impossible balances and material explorations. For example, the impastos on Lydia Gifford’s abstract paintings remind us that the paint itself and the canvas are the starting point for all pictorial research. While Juliana Cerqueira Leite’s and Jessica Stockholder’s sculptures rise in the oneness of white or from heterogeneous fragments, assembling various objects in vibrant colours.

 

However, everything that spins must stop at some point. Movement ceases. Circulation shuts down. Breathing runs out. Networks are torn apart. Balances collapse. Branches snap. Cables peel. Flowers dry up. Creatures die and stories, even science fiction ones – those that contradict the laws of logic and push the limits of what is possible, also come to an end.

 

Esmeralda Gómez Galera

EN / ES